Not Just a Serial Number
by Speshbun
Summary: Cadet FN-2187 has lived an arduous life surrounded by the First Order, the only family he has ever known. What forces eventually lead the cadet to be one of the most important figures in the galaxy? '87 soon discovers that sometimes, you don't have to seek out the spark of rebellion, the urge to make a change, because it finds you.


_Author's Note_ : This work of fan-based fiction is made with consideration only toward Star Wars Episode 7: The Force Awakens, and does not include information from works post Episode 6. In a nutshell, I know Finn has his own origin and everything, but I wrote this just for fun after watching the movie. Please let me know what you think! Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 1

"FN-2187."

He only heard the throbbing in his head.

"FN-2187, you will return to your post."

Hux could have gone on until her heart gave out. The boy wasn't moving.

"FN-2187, this is your final warning."

She spat out the serial number like a droid. It made him sick.

Hesitating was a mistake. The stick was out now, collapsed out of the general's pocket and held out to her side in plain view, ready to make an example of him.

This time would be like all the others.

As the boy stood to his full height, almost matching the older general despite his age, his trembling eyes met hers. Arm raised, the woman's thin skin barely veiled the bulging veins under her tensed, mottled skin.

One cannot strike a child without adequate reason, unless otherwise specified by a decimation, lest the cadets think their leaders unfair and harbor dissent. Thus, they were never unfair. The supreme leader made sure of it.

Yet crouched before her was a rebel wearing the First Order uniform. Before her was an abomination to the code that had been drilled into her before she learned to speak Basic. In a way, the defiance in his eyes reminded her of a warrior of old, before the fall of the Republic. Before she was taken, her father would tell stories of them. It scared her though she would never admit it.

"Return. To. Your. Post." Her breath returned to her. Thankfully, Hux had the clarity to notice that the children around her had begun rooting for the cadet before her, if not vocally or somatically, but in attitude. She couldn't lose them to this rebel and make him a martyr. She couldn't lose them to FN-2187.

* * *

Eighty-Seven's blood began to drain from his ears and his knuckles regained their color. He could hear no rain of blows which meant the general was giving him an opportunity to get out of her sight.

"Come on now." '87 groaned as he brought the battered boy behind him to his feet. Eighty-Seven had no idea who the kid was, but he was sure taking a beating from the general, and he couldn't just stand by and listen to his anguish.

"What's your name?" '87 asked, now looking the cadet in the eye. He couldn't have been much older, maybe a year or two. The boy might have already given the ten-year oath.

As the blonde-haired boy opened his mouth to speak, he was yanked away by the general, who almost dragged him by his ankles down the immaculately clean hallway towards the bridge. '87 held an arm out to pull the boy back before he could be taken, but was pulled away himself.

"Should I send him to conditioning, General Hux?" Range Officer Allor barked out obediently towards the general, who stopped in her retreat. She narrowed an eye at the diminutive, rotund officer looking to make a name for himself as a lapdog, and shook her head.

Her acquiescence didn't save FN-2187 from being thrown back into the practice range, his shoulder slamming into the plastoid sliding door frame with such force it almost dislocated.

"You're lucky you weren't sent out the airlock, 2187. Now get back to your exercises." The gravelly voice of the range officer filled his ear, the man's spittle landing on the boy's dark skin as he looked back out the doorway where the boy had just been.

"Yes sir."

* * *

General Hux smoothed her eyebrows as she leaned on her cold, durasteel desk. Her thin glasses touched the empty bottle of Chandrilan Brandy amongst the clutter. She let out a deep, full-body sigh now that her son was asleep. Hux liked to tell herself that he'll carry his bruises with pride one day when she's gone. It was a lie. All she would leave him with would be anger and a twisted sense of loyalty. Her eyes flicked to the empty bottle on her desk and then to the datapad underneath. A brush of the hand brought out the device and the subsequent profile of one cadet FN-2187, future Stormtrooper Captain, thirty-first legion.

"Captain." She whispered, a smirk crawling up her wrinkled face. "You'll never see the light of day for as long as I live."

Disoriented motor skills and age made the changing of classified documents take longer than they once did, but eventually the edit was complete.

"For reasons classified above Omega-level clearance, Cadet FN-2187 will be permanently reassigned post-haste by command of First Order General Rayna Hux to the sanitation sector."


End file.
